Flushed Away: What If?
by BlueRenamon
Summary: What if Sid had never made it to the pub? He wouldn't have ended up Up Top. He would never have met Roddy. And Roddy, who wouldn't have been flushed away, would never have met Rita… Or would he?
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to my first Flushed Away fic. The premise for this came to me when reading the director's commentary on the DVD (something they'd brushed upon), and I felt it was too good to resist…

Disclaimer: Roddy, Rita and the entire Flushed Away cast, story and universe as a whole are the intellectual property of DeamWorks/Aardman. They, as well as any references to the film, are used without permission purely for the purposes of entertainment. This plot does, however, belong to me. It can be copied and pasted (should you choose to) as long as the author (me) is credited.

Now, on to the story…

* * *

**Flushed Away: What if…?**

**Chapter I  
**

What if Sid had never made it to the pub? He wouldn't have ended up Up Top. He would never have met Roddy. And Roddy, who wouldn't have been flushed away, would never have met Rita…

Or would he?

* * *

The Jammy Dodger rested in silence, moored tight to the edge of the sewer. All was quiet aboard. The engine was off, the lights were cold and lifeless. The only sounds was the gentle lap of the water against the hull of the ship, and the lightly tempered breathing of the ship's pilot: one Rita Malone.

"She's around here somewhere!" came an all too familiar, high pitched, heavily accented voice.

"Spike." She muttered under her breath. Those rats never gave up!

Quickly leaping down from the helm, Rita grabbed her barge pole, a twisted paperclip attached to the top. As she'd done countless times before, she pulled down the brickwork sail that would (hopefully) camouflage her from her pursuers.

Stowing away the pole, she ducked down to the stern of the Dodger. With any luck the rats wouldn't find her.

"Beware…" Came an eerie voice from the front of her boat, "Beware…"

Turning quickly she saw that a slug had managed to make it's way onto the roof of the cockpit, "Bloody thing!" She hissed, "Be quiet! Get off my boat!"

Looking around for something to shoo it away with, the only thing to hand was the barge pole. Grasping it swiftly, she moved to prod the slug off the boat. The dim light made the job harder than it ought to be, the only real illumination coming from the rat's boat.

"Come on, hop it!" She demanded, pushing the slug quite harshly.

The little slimy creature didn't look all that appreciative. Slugs were used to going at their own pace. But if it was going to make a noise then Rita needed it off the boat before it gave away her hiding place. Unfortunately for her, the rushed slug wasn't gripping onto the roof of the cockpit anymore, and with a sudden slip and a thud it bounced down the side and onto the deck, catching the horn rope as it fell.

The resulting noise could have woken the dead, and it shook the Dodger violently enough to unhook the brickwork sail. With a loud zip it wound itself back up, knocking it out of it's supports and into the water with a loud splash.

A look of dread spread across Rita's face. Shooting a quick glance aft she could see the light from the rat's boat stop, then turn.

"Over there!" She heard Spike's voice again.

"You idiot!" She turned back, looking around for the slug that was no longer there. Those little sods could move quickly enough when they wanted, it seemed.

"We can't let her get away." She heard instructions being issued as the rats drew closer.

"Urgh!" She groaned, then ran over to the motor pull-chain, yanking at it ferociously, the old boat refusing to start, "Come on Jammy, me old mate, don't do this to me!"

She was knocked off her feet as the larger boat crashed into the Dodger, and she looked up just in time to see the group of rats sliding down the bow of their boat and boarding hers.

"Oh no you don't!" She muttered to herself, springing back to her feet. She deftly dodged the first one as he leapt at her, and a quick grab and a swing dealt with the next pair. But just when she felt she was in with a chance of winning, two big white paws grabbed her from behind.

"What?!" she gasped, looking over her shoulder. It was Whitey. "Let me go, you pink eyed freak!" She yelled angrily, twisting to deliver a harsh kick to his snout, knocking off his glasses.

A sudden blinding light from the rat's boat made her wince. The shadowed outline against the light was instantly recognisable as Spike.

"Rita, Rita, Rita," He heckled, "You thought you could give us the slip-"

He was interrupted when his left foot slipped, sending him tumbling head over tail down onto the deck of the Dodger.

Acting quickly, Rita turned on her heels, escaping Whitey's enormous grasp only for a moment. But quick as she was, Whitey managed to grab her by the tail, yanking her back.

"Careful Miss." He hoisted her up and held her by the waist, leaving her dangling upside-down, "You'll injure yourself."

"Now then," Spike strummed his fingers together, leering in at her, "Where's the ruby, Rita?" He demanded.

"The boss wants it back." Whitey added forcefully, tightening his grip.

"I don't have your stupid ruby," She lied.

"OK," Spike sighed, stepping closer, "Are we going to do this the easy way," his voice became a low growl, "Or the hard way?"

"Oh, I think we should do it the easy way, don't you Spike?" Whitey added.

Spike rolled his eyes, "Alright, alright. It's time to bring out the persuader."

Both Rita and Whitey gasped as Spike brought out the soldieresque nutcracker, causing Whitey to almost drop his captive. Less than an instant later he had her again, and his hand rested over her back pocket. It felt oddly full.

"Spike, I think I've found it…"

"Well, come on then!" Spike urged, "Spit it out!"

"Don't. You. Dare!" Rita glowered at the giant rat.

"The booty's in the booty." Whitey explained, letting Rita slip from his grasp. He grabbed her leg, shaking her. The ruby soon fell loose, clattering across the deck.

Spike, a grin spreading across his lips, picked it up from where it had settled, lifting it up to the light, "Ha ha ha!" He turned back to Whitey and Rita, "Thanks mate! The boss is going to be so happy with us."

Rita, angry, crossed her arms, "You're toast." She told the rats.

* * *

The rats bungled Rita, arms bound in chains, into a large, well decorated room. It was one she'd seen before on several occasions. And she knew who it belonged to. That slimy, warty villainous creep; the Toad.

As usual the lights were low, the main illumination being the fire. A large chair, back partially towards the door, sat close enough to practically be on the hearth. A telly sat just to the side of the fire.

"Boss," Spike called, trotting ahead of the group as they made their way forwards, "We've found it boss."

As the group came to a standstill just off to the side, the telly turned off and the Toad rose slowly to his feet. A superior look crossed his face as he turned to look down at the rats.

Leaning forwards, he spoke slowly, almost patronisingly, "Hello Rita."

"Hello hansom." She shifted her weight and looked at him mockingly.

With a slight chuckle, the Toad clicked his fingers and held out his hand. Spike jumped up, placing the ruby in his green, warty hand, "The prize returns to me." He paused, looking down at her.

The mocking smirk left Rita's face as she watched him inspect the ruby.

"Did you imagine I would let you steal it from me?" He turned his back.

"You what?!" She demanded, knocking Spike out of the way and marching forwards as far as the chain would let her, "That jewel belongs to my father, and you know it!"

Whitey hoisted her back into formation and clamping a hand over her mouth to silence her.

"Your father?" The Toad chuckled, "A good for nothing scavenger just like his daughter?"

Rita tried to protest, her voice muffling around Whitey's giant paw.

The Toad simply looked down at her, indifference turning into disgust, "Dispose of her."

Rita's eyes went wide. No way was she going to let them just 'dispose' of her without a fight. Determination and defiance bubbled up inside her, and a plan began to form in her mind. With a growl, and without warning, she bit down hard on Whitey's hand, eliciting a yelp of pain and letting go of her mouth. A fraction of a second later she brought down the heel of her boot on his toes. A second yelp of pain followed the first, and she felt his grip loosen on both her and the chain.

The Toad, meanwhile, had moved over to his prized collection. Rita's ruby was now perched delicately on top of a torch. That was her goal.

As quickly as she could, Rita leapt forwards, swinging the chain around to the side and using it like a lasso. Running towards the ruby, she heard footfalls behind her. The rats were giving chase.

"No!" She saw the Toad, only now noticing her as she ran towards him, "Stop her!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than his tongue sprang out towards her. With a quick jump and an energetic summersault she had dodged it, the Toad instead finding Spike, knocking the young rat over. The others were sent sprawling as they tripped over Spike, tangling themselves up in the toad's tongue.

Looking back with a chuckle, Rita turned back to the Toad, now moving to block her. With a few quick swings of the chain, Rita let it fly, tangling around the Toad's legs.

"Feeling a little tongue tied?" she mocked.

"No! Ith not pothible!" Toad lisped.

In the time it took Rita to wink, she yanked on the chain, pulling the Toad's legs together and knocking him off balance. With just enough slack in it to release her hands, Rita freed herself from her bounds and let the chain go.

"Argh!" Toad cried, as his tongue began to recoil. He went crashing straight through the pile of rats like a bowling ball though pins.

Rita gave a triumphant laugh before stepping forwards to pick up her ruby. "The prize returns to me." She repeated the Toad's earlier choice of phrase, then pocketed it and ran.

She had to get back to the Dodger.

Looking around, the only way out was either back past the now recovering heap of rats, or to head further into the lair. One was certain capture, the other… Well, heaven knew what she may find.

"After her!" She heard the Toad call from behind her. She turned, seeing them climb to their feet and shake themselves off.

"Forwards it is!" She took off at a sprint.

Her path was cut off by a fridge, and she found herself hesitating. The sound of her pursuers was growing closer, so she took the only route she could find – up the stairs. Unfortunately, the only thing she found at the top was a few open windows and a very large drop back into the sewers below.

But her determination didn't falter for a moment. Looking around for a ladder, or any other way out, she saw a power-line across to the other side of the waterway.

"Perfect!" Now all she needed was a way to use it.

Leaping back into the building for a moment she soon found what she needed; a cable. It would double up as a flying fox type device to let her slide to safety.

With a few hard tugs and some sparks she soon had it loose. Instantly the room went dark.

"No, not the Master Cable!" she heard the toad yell, "Put that back!"

Ignoring him, Rita stepped up to the power line, swinging the cable around it.

"Toodle-oo!" She waved back to the Toad and rats, who were by now climbing the stairs. With a jump, she was gone.

* * *

Rita skilfully piloted the Jammy Dodger through the waterways that led away from Ratopolis. She had the ruby; all she needed now was a place to hide. She knew that taking it back home to her family now would only mean trouble for them, and that wasn't something she wanted to risk. The rats would give chase, and she needed to run for as long as she could, maybe find somewhere to hide until they stopped looking for her.

But where?

Steering away from the main channels, onto what constituted a small side-canal, Rita turned off the ship's engine. The slight current would keep her away from the walls, as well as keep her moving away from the city.

Securing the wheel, and pausing to pick up the cable she'd used in her escape – which had been resting on the floor beside her pilot stand – she headed below deck. She needed to look at her maps, maybe find some way of hiding the ruby until the Toad stopped looking for it.

Hanging the cable on a hook in the wall, Rita took the ruby out of her back pocket and placed it on a stand. She opened the top draw, reaching in and rummaging through the old looking papers. Soon enough, she'd found her rolled up maps. Laying them out on the floor and opening them up, Rita began to carefully inspect them. Wherever she went she would need to make sure that nobody was around to see her hide it. And to make sure of that, it had to be somewhere that nobody in their right mind would go.

"Hmm…" She pondered, absentmindedly swiping her tail from side to side as she looked for anything that would prove to be a good storage space.

The map that showed the area immediately surrounding Ratopolis yielded nothing of value. But, when she turned to the next one, a spot immediately jumped out at her.

"Of course!" She said enthusiastically, "The treatment plant!"

It was just the other side of Hyde Park and the rapids. All she'd have to do is get through them, avoid getting sucked into the inlet, and deposit the ruby in some sort of hiding place, no doubt one of the rain drains that led into the sewer from the park. It would be perfectly safe there. Nobody ever went near the rapids. Most didn't have a boat powerful enough to get through, nor strong enough to endure the cross currents. But the Dodger could manage it, she was sure!

An instant later she was up the ladder and back at the helm. In less than a day the ruby would be safe and she'd be on her way home until things died down.

What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

End of Part One.

* * *

Well, I hope you enjoyed that. Please, leave a review. Constructive criticism is welcomed. 

Also, keep in mind that I'm aware that much of this is taken more or less straight from the movie, with a few tweaks in the way and manner that things happened. But I'm just setting up the scene, and it makes more sense to follow it this way. Almost everything that follows will be my own works, with only a handful of references to the film. So please keep that in mind.

Part Two will be up as soon as it's done.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Roddy, Rita and the entire Flushed Away cast, story and universe as a whole are the intellectual property of DeamWorks/Aardman. They, as well as any references to the film, are used without permission purely for the purposes of entertainment. This plot does, however, belong to me. It can be copied and pasted (should you choose to) as long as the author (me) is credited, and this disclaimer remains intact.

* * *

**Flushed Away: What if…?**

Part Two

* * *

The waters on the western edge of Hyde Park were notorious for their rapids and strong currents, especially in the vicinity of the treatment plant. It was a well known no-go area for most nautical adventurers – even some of the more intrepid amongst them wouldn't have dared to try and navigate their way through. A sturdy ship, an impeccable piloting ability, and - above all else - a strong stomach were needed to even contemplate traversing such a hazardous section of the sewers. 

But Rita was pretty sure that she had all three.

Pretty sure… If the Dodger could hold up to it.

But at this point it was far too late for her to be second-guessing herself.

"In for a penny, in for a pound." She thought aloud to nobody in particular, attempting to reassure herself as much as anything else.

One thing that had been playing over in the back of her mind was that she hadn't seen hide nor hair of the Toad's Hench-rats since she'd left the city. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. But one thing she knew for sure was that the Toad never gave up that easily. Was this the calm before the storm?

Judging from the waters up ahead the storm was already beginning.

"OK Rita," she thought aloud once again, eyes focused dead ahead at the corroded, twisted grate that covered the entry tunnel to the treatment plant, "You only get one chance at this."

Locking the helm in place with a large safety-pin and setting the engine to half-throttle, she left the Jammie's course to the tumultuous current that drew it in towards the gaping maw. Leaping to the back of the boat, Rita quickly tied herself to the deck, via her belt, using the emergency stop parachute's deploy lines. She was smart enough to replace her old leather-styled belt with something a little bit stronger and much more durable: the cable she'd used to escape the Toad's lair. She quickly grabbed hold of one of the aft mooring lines. She'd attached a crudely styled grappling hook to it just for the occasion. Swinging it around her shoulder she quickly looked from the course ahead to the crossbars of the gate. They, the Dodger and herself, were mere moments away from passing through.

"One chance. One chance." She repeated as she swung the line faster and faster, "Three, two, one, GO!"

She released, the grappling hook flying up into the air as the Dodger passed onwards through the fang-like wrought-iron gate. Rita ran urgently right to the stern, unknowingly digging her fingers hard into the rubber half-tyre that made up the aft quarters if the boat.

"Go on, go on!" She urged, feeling the momentum of the boat and the torrent that carried it grow in intensity.

The grappler and rope flew in what seemed to almost be a time-lapsed arc. The whole world around Rita felt as if it had slowed right down to a near standstill. She dare not even draw breath.

With a loud clunk the grappler collided with one of the vertical bars, losing both pace and direction.

"Oh no!" Rita gasped. She'd missed. There was nothing she could do now but watch as the line and grappler fell into the water, and maybe await her soon-to-be watery demise.

To her utter disbelief and amazement, the clawed mechanism managed to fall on the downstream side of one of the lower crossbars. As the Dodger surged forwards the line caught, snagged and pulled taut. The boat came to a violent halt, shuddering and groaning, flinging Rita herself forwards as the Dodger stopped but she didn't.

Lucky that she'd used the parachute to tie herself down.

But,

_SNAP!_

"Oh shi-!"

_SPLASH!_

The impact against the water alone knocked the wind out of her, and a moment later the shock made her inhale sharply. Not a good idea when you were half-submerged in a raging river of death.

Choking and spluttering, Rita fought desperately but futilely against the current. Then, against the white noise that was the water raging all around her, she heard a very loud twang, and managed to turn in time to see that the parachute still had one line attached to the boat.

The force of the last tie with the Dodger straining like that pulled Rita back below the surface. She soon realised that she wasn't sinking far, and mustered up as much will and strength as she could. But it wouldn't allow her to resurface.

Rita knew that she was half way drowned from the burning that was erupting in her lungs. She had maybe half a minute left at this rate. Probably less if she continued to struggle without success. Just enough time to do one last thing…

With one huge, arching thrust-punch, Rita made a desperate grab for the taut parachute line. She felt her fingers brush past it. As quickly as she could she repeated the process with her other hand, this time gaining purchase. It was just enough to pull herself up a bit, but she still couldn't quite reach the surface, and the vital air that her lungs now screamed for.

_Come on, Rita!_ A voice ordered in her head, _Don't give up now!_

She could already feel herself growing woozy. Her vision was growing dark around the edges as the oxygen in her body was all but used up.

_Don't you dare give up now!_ The voice in her head screamed at her.

Who was she to argue?

Pulling the wire to her mouth she began to gnaw at it. She felt a distant pain in the palms of her hands, no doubt friction burns. But the voice in her head told her to ignore it and keep going at the wire. A moment later she felt a new pain. Not in her hands, but in her mouth. It felt like something had bitten her tongue.

Something else struck her as odd; she was moving!

She broke the surface of the water, reflex forcing her to retch and then inhale deeply several times, expelling the fluid from her lungs and drawing in oxygen. Everything hurt. Everything was pain. But pain was good. It meant she was still alive.

As she turned in the current of that great torrent she found herself facing downstream… and heading straight towards a very large waterfall.

"Oh joy!"

In the next instant Rita found herself experience weightlessness, and that terrible gut-wrenching feeling that marked the anticipation of a long, fast plummet.

"AAAH!" She cried, closing her eyes, not daring to look down. She only reopened them when she realised that the falling sensation she'd expected wasn't there, "Hold the phone."

She looked down. Was the bottom of the cistern getting further away, or was her mind just playing tricks on her? It must have been the oxygen deprivation.

"Yargh!" Rita cried, finding herself twirled around and upside down. The parachute plastic bag was above her, inflated and floating upwards in the warm updraft provided by whatever chemical reactions were taking place in that barely visible pool far below her. She grasped at the handle, realising that she was twirling because the rope around her was unravelling.

"Oh, sure, now you come loose." She rolled her eyes sarcastically. The bag tugged her upwards roughly, urging her to concentrate and hold on tight.

In less time than it took to blink she suddenly found herself in the open air.

"Oh wow!" She gasped in awe.

The view was stunning. Spreading out in all directions as far as the eye could see, the sprawling human city of London. She had seen pictures of it back home in the decayed remnants of maps, postcards and other trinkets washed into the sewers. Even the city of Ratropolis resembled it. But nothing could have prepared her for the sheer scope of it all.

It took her breath away.

But she realised that she faced one other major problem, "How on Earth do I get down?"

"Craw!"

Rita's ears twitched. She jerked her head around, startled, trying to find what and where the source of the sound was. Her movement caused her to spin, giving her the full circle view of the surroundings. A little way off, with a bit more altitude than she had, was a large black and white bird. A magpie, she soon realised. It was working hard to gain altitude, and it's gaze was locked firmly on her.

"Probably just curious…" she thought aloud. Magpies weren't exactly the kind of bird that went after rats and mice, but the sight of one dangling from a British Airways carrier bag would have grabbed the attention of just about anything, even the most disinterested or indifferent observer.

"Craw!" It called out again. Rita didn't speak bird, but that sure did sound aggravated and mennacing.

A glint of light caught her in the eye, making her wince and breaking her train of thought. Where had that come from? She looked away from the magpie, gazing downwards. It happened again; a bright gleam, with a slight red tint to it. As she continued to turn it dimmed down enough for her to get a good look. It was coming from her pocket.

"The ruby!" With all the commotion she'd completely forgotten about it. Rita reached down to take the ruby out of her pocket, bringing it up for a closer inspection, "Phew!" She sighed with relief.

"Craw!" She heard again. And it sounded much closer than before. Too close.

Her head jerked up, and there was the magpie, diving straight towards her! It's gaze was locked firmly on her. Wait, no… Something else. Her hand? No, wait… The ruby.

Rita realised her mistake. Magpies and shiny objects.

"Uh-oh."

It's feet were outstretched, ready to grab at the precious stone she held aloft. It still twinkled in the sunlight. There was no way for Rita to move out of the way in time; the bag was just too slow. The magpie; too fast to change course.

There was only one thing to do.

Rita let go of the bag.

* * *

Roddy St James was what most would consider a pampered pet. He'd never truly gone wanting for as long as he could remember, his owner – Tabitha and her family – giving him anything that he could possibly need.

Of course, none of this changed the fact that he still liked a bit of fun every now an then. Well, maybe in moderation.

The current incarnation of fun had manifested itself in a rather challenging round of golf between himself and the sergeant. Mostly because Roddy seemed to be the one who kept getting the odd-shaped pea which would bounce off at a tangent.

Maybe this drive would be different?

His swing was high and fast, following through all the way to deliver what appeared to be his best drive of the day so far. Accurate and far-reaching, it bounced once, before cutting almost ninety degrees off to the left and out of the bedroom door, vanishing from sight.

Roddy let our a heavy sigh and frowned, "Not again." He turned to the sergeant, "Have you been deep freezing my peas again?"

Of course, the doll didn't reply.

"Fine, we'll play it your way." Roddy turned his back on the miniature army man and hopped into his nearby convertible. The tyres screeched as he put his foot to the floor and drifted out of the room in search of his ball.

No sooner was he out of the door than he saw it, nestled gently against the skirting board on the far side of the hall.

"Ah-ha! There you are!"

He parked up next to the pea, climbing out of the car to retrieve it. But no sooner had his feet touched the floor than he heard a strange 'thunk' from the master bedroom.

"What on Earth…?" his eyebrow raised in curiosity.

He entered the room, but it all seemed so tranquil. Well, at least until he heard another, slightly louder'thunk,' followed closely by a 'thud' and a definite exclamation.

"Ow!"

As he watched in disbelief, a large plume of black soot and dust exploded outwards from the open fireplace. He closed his eyes, unable to suppress a cough and a splutter as he inhaled the acrid smog.

To his surprise he heard a voice.

"Well, I've had softer langings."

As the dust settled and cleared Roddy realised that he could see a figure appearing. It was dirty and caked in soot, the descent being the obvious cause. Arms, legs, ears, tail… Definitely a mouse.

As it climbed to it's feet, back to him, he couldn't help but notice the strange attire: heavy duty boots, red, white and blue union flag trousers, what looked to be a heavy-duty metallic utility belt, a pale green woollen top, and fiery red hair, bound in a ponytail by a simplistic band.

As this strange visitor dusted herself off (she was clearly female), she turned to look at him. Half turned, she noticed him sizing her up, and offered her full attention with a questioning, almost suspicious look.

Their eyes met for a moment during all this, and Roddy couldn't help but find himself speechless, lost in her emerald gaze.

But, when he could speak again, only one question remained. And it seemed they shared it.

"Who are you?" They asked.

* * *

End of Part Two

* * *

That's the end of the second chapter (sorry to point out the obvious). Thank you to those who have read and reviewed so far. I hope you've enjoyed it. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Roddy, Rita and the entire Flushed Away cast, story and universe as a whole are the intellectual property of DeamWorks/Aardman. They, as well as any references to the film, are used without permission purely for the purposes of entertainment. This plot does, however, belong to me. It can be copied and pasted (should you choose to) as long as the author (me) is credited, and this disclaimer remains intact.

* * *

**Flushed Away: What if…?**

Part Three

* * *

"Where are those idiots?!" the Toad bellowed in frustration. It had been hours since he'd sent the Hench-rats out after that grubby little creature, Rita. He needed that cable back, or all his plans were moot and worthless.

This was the second time she'd stolen something of value from him; the ruby and the master cable. It was high time the little vermin learned the true meaning of what it meant to cross the Toad!

The Toad's sanctuary was interrupted by the rusty creak of the stairs that joined the upper and lower levels of the floodgate control. He turned to see who dared to invade his privacy mid rant.

"Hey, Boss." It was Thimblenose Ted, "I've had a tip-off. She was last seen heading west, towards the treatment plant."

"Excellent!" The Toad exclaimed gleefully, clasping his fingers together, "See to it that she's tracked down and the items are retrieved. There is no margin for error."

"Yes Boss." Ted turned on his heels, moving towards the door leave.

The Toad scratched his chin thoughtfully, "One more thing." He said in a deep, menacing tone, causing the hench-rat to stop and half turn, "We can afford no witnesses. Make sure she's never found."

Ted nodded, then swiftly departed the dark, ominous room.

"I will have them back. And then every one of those filthy vermin will get what's coming to them!"

His evil laughter faded into the darkness.

* * *

"Who are you?" Roddy demanded, "Who… What… How did you get here?"

Rita's eyes were wandering around her new surroundings. A human house? She was inside a human house? Looking around, trying to take it all in, there were so many objects that she recognised. But, at the same time, so much of it was new. There were some things she'd never seen before in her life. For the most part, though, it looked as much like any rat's house, only on a much larger scale, obviously. And it all looked more or less brand new, at least in comparison with the usual rubbish that ended up in the sewers of home.

"Who are you?" Roddy's voice shook Rita out of her reverie with a start. "And how did you get here?" He pressed.

"I don't know…" She admitted, quite sombrely, "One minute I was in the sewer, the next-"

"A sewer rat?!" Roddy pulled a face of disgust.

"-I was up in the air," Rita continued thoughtfully, "fighting off a magpie-" Her eyes went wide, "The ruby!" She remembered.

A quick search of all her pockets yielded no results, and she let out a few choice - if colourful - words.

"I say," Roddy protested against the vulgarities.

Rita ignored his comment, turning her back and thinking hard. Retracing her steps would have helped - if she'd taken any, that was. But she'd quite literally fallen from the sky, and depending on how high up she'd been when she dropped it… Well, it could quite easily be anywhere. And, despite her determination, she just couldn't recall when she'd lost track of it.

Only then did she realise that the other rat was actually talking.

"-And you can't just come up here-"

"Shush!" She turned, shooting him an angry glare, "I'm trying to think!"

His mouth agape, he fell silent, then closed it quickly, his lips smacking loudly. She sure didn't look like the type to be messed with.

Rita's mind was racing. Where could it be?! It was still in her hand when she'd let go of the bag, that much was certain. Had she dropped it just after that, or maybe on her descent down through the soot-filled chasm that counted for a human chimney? She had no real way of knowing. But her best bet was to start at the fireplace. If that yielded no results, then she'd have to go outside and look.

Roddy watched her closely with a suspicious eye. Whatever this sewer-dweller's intentions were, he needed to get her out of the house by any means.

He was just about to open his mouth to ask another question when she took off at a run, leaping up onto the hearth and back into the fireplace. She started rummaging around amongst the burned embers, flinging burned and charred bits all over, leaving soot and grime in her wake.

"Hey!" Roddy waved in protest, running over to the fire, "Stop that! You're making a mess!"

She did stop what she was doing, but paused only to shoot him another venomous look before resuming her search.

"It has to be here somewhere!" She muttered under her breath.

"Um, miss…" Roddy stepped a little closer, careful not to actually get within arms reach of her, just in case she went berserk on him. He could see fire in her eyes, "What is it exactly that you're doing?"

Without looking up from the task at hand, Rita replied, "I'm looking for my ruby!"

"Your ruby?" Roddy frowned in puzzlement, "Why would your ruby be in this fireplace?"

"Because," She began, tossing a large chunk of debris his way, "I had it when I fell."

"Wh-"

"Look!" Rita interrupted, frustration thick in her voice, "I went to a lot of trouble to get that ruby back from the Toad. He's been trying to kill me for it ever since! Now, you can either help me find it, or stop distracting me and let me do it myself!"

Roddy considered for a moment… If he let her do it, at this rate the room would end up a total mess, and he'd spend the rest of his holiday trying to clean it up. If he helped her then at least he could make sure it wasn't so bad.

"Ok," He rolled up his sleeves and licked his lips, "Where do I begin?"

Rita nodded, somewhat appreciatively, although it was barely noticeable, "You take that side. I'll start here. We'll meet in the middle."

* * *

"Are you sure it's down there, Spike?" Whitey asked his pint-sized companion. The pair were walking down the concrete path of the Hyde Park tunnel, having moored just before the rapids. Spike had suggested they do it to avoid actually trying to get past the rapids. Whitey thought maybe Spike was afraid, although he knew he'd never admit it.

"You heard the slug," Spike power-walked by Whitey's side, "A rat in union flag trousers sailed down here earlier, got caught in the rapids and sucked into the inlet."

"Yes, I heard that bit." Whitey nodded, "But how do we get down there without our boat?"

"We don't. That's the point." Spike pointed out across the water, "We'd never get through that. But this way we can see if she's actually down the tunnel first."

"Ah, good thinking Spike."

The smaller rat puffed up his chest with pride at the genius of his idea.

"But," Whitey said hesitantly, "That tunnel curves… We'll have to go all the way down it to see if she's in there."

"Ohh." Spike narrowed his eyes. He'd hoped Whitey wouldn't mention that. Their little powerboat didn't seem big enough to navigate these rough waters, and he didn't want to risk being swept away and then chlorinated in the treatment plant. He'd end up whiter than Whitey!

"Now, how do we do that with out little boat?" Whitey pondered, having just unwittingly verbalised Spike's previous thought.

He had to admit, he was as stumped as Whitey. There was no obvious way for them to get down there and then back again. Unless, of course, they tied off their boat and slowly lowered themselves into the inlet. They'd be able to get in and out then, quite easily.

"Bingo!" Spike exclaimed excitedly.

"Scrabble." Whitey added with a chuckle, as was his habit.

"Enough games," Spike held up his hand, "Let's call in the rat-mobiles!"

* * *

By now both Rita and Roddy were covered head to toe in a caked layer of dirt. They'd searched the fireplace corner to corner for any sign of the ruby, and so far there hadn't been the slightest indication that it was there. Of course, Roddy had zoned out quite some time ago, not really paying attention to what he was doing. This sort of thing just didn't really hold his attention.

_Clunk!_

"Ow!" He winced, rubbing his head. Lost in his thoughts, he'd wandered straight into the back wall of the fire.

Rita, who was on her hands and knees, inspecting the underside of a coal that she suspected wasn't actually coal at all – more like a cheap replica designed to look just like coal - looked up, raising an eyebrow.

With a frown, she rose to her feet, placing her hands on her hips, "Are you actually looking, or just wandering around with your eyes closed?"

Roddy rubbed the sore spot on his head. Was that a bump he could feel swelling up? Great, just great. Concussion. Just what he needed.

"Well," his tone bordered on sarcasm, "thank you for your concern, Miss… Miss…" Had she told him is name, or had he just forgotten?

"Rita." She supplied, her tone blank.

"Well, thank you for your concern, Miss Rita." He began again, this time emphasising his words with an almost theatrical waving of his arms, "But I don't think your ruby is in here."

Roddy stepped over to the edge of the fireplace, taking the time to wipe and clean his feet of the soot, apparently oblivious to the layer that coated the rest of him. He picked up a cotton-bud, bent slightly at one head, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a game of golf to finish."

Rita tutted, rolling her eyes and shifting her weight onto her other leg, "Fine, I'll find it on my own."

She turned her back on him, concentrating on the task in hand, "Now, if it isn't in here…" she paced the edge of the coals, kicking her feet through the charcoal embers as if they were crisp autumn leaves, "Then it must be out there somewhere."

Her gaze drifted upwards. Not surprisingly, she couldn't see straight up to the sky. But, she could see sunlight. And there, right near the top, glistening just inside the direct sunlight, was a red twinkle against the black. It could only have been one thing.

"The ruby!" A smile crossed her lips. But how would she get up to it? There was at least a one foot gap between where she was now and any ledge that would give her a starting point to scale the chimney. What she needed was a boost.

Looking around for anything that she could stand on, her eyes settled on the only other moving creature there, high on a nearby bed stand. She watched him for a moment, laying down a garden pea on the floor. He stood next to it, tongue lolling out in concentration as he bent his knees and swung the cotton-bud club in practice. He took a deep breath, lifting the club high in the air behind him, and swung hard.

"Hey!"

Roddy's head jerked towards the source of the voice in puzzlement. Unfortunately, this threw off his balance. He teetered on the edge of the bed stand almost comically for a moment before giving a little yelp, falling to the floor with a dull thud.

"Pain…" He gasped.

"Hey, you!" Rita called again, totally ignoring his agony, "Come here a minute!"

Grumbling, Roddy picked himself up from the floor, stomping over to where Rita stood; a face like thunder, "Look, Rita. I'm trying to play golf here. You shouldn't even be in this house at all! And my name isn't 'Hey, you!' It's Roddy. Roddy St James."

Rita's expression was distinctly unimpressed, and her arms had folded themselves across her chest to emphasise her impatience.

"Look,_Roddy,_" She tapped her foot, "I don't want to be here any more than you want me to be here. I have a boat I need to get back to, a family I have to help provide for, and I'm not going anywhere without my ruby."

"Ruby? What ruby? We looked for it for ages, and all we got to show for it was soot, dirt and grime." He turned his back on her, crossing his own arms, "Now, if you don't mind, I need to be going. I have serious matters to attend to."

Rita rolled her eyes, "Urgh!" She reached forwards, grabbing him roughly by the elbow and dragging him towards the back of the fire, "Look, you nitwit," She grabbed his face, directing his gaze upwards and pointing, "See that little twinkling red dot up there? _That _is my ruby. Now, are you going to help me get it back or not?" She released him.

Roddy's gaze remained on the precious little stone for a moment, then he looked back across to her, "I help you get that, and you're gone?"

"That was the point I was trying to make." Rita tapped her foot again, growing ever more impatient.

There was a moment of silent contemplation on Roddy's part, and then, "OK, what do I have to do?"

Rita nodded, "Ok." She took his arm, leading him to the side wall of the fire, "Put your hands together."

He looked at her with uncertainty, placing his hands together in a prayer-like manner. Rita rolled her eyes. Roddy was beginning to notice a trend there.

Rita opened up his hands at the wrist, laying them flat. Before he could so much as protest, she had one of her feet in his hands and was climbing him like a ladder.

"Hey!" He objected. But by that time she was already up, feet on his shoulders. The pair swayed uncertainly for a moment, almost losing balance and falling over.

"Stop squirming!" Rita complained, reaching up and trying to grab the ledge.

"I'm not squirming!" Roddy protested indignantly, trying to avoid moving too quickly and overbalancing.

Rita stretched up as far as she could, her finger occasionally grabbing the ledge as the pair teetered from side to side, but slipping before she could get enough of a grip to pull herself up. It was no use, she was going to have to jump.

"Hold still," She ordered, looking down, "I'm going to try something."

Roddy looked up at her with a frown, "Why do I not like the sound of that?"

Ignoring him, Rita bent her knees. She pushed up off Roddy as hard as she could, sending him flying back into the coals. A plume of dust and soot flew into the air around him. Not that Rita noticed any of this. The jump had been more than enough, and she had good purchase on the ledge. In no time at all she'd pulled herself up.

Roddy watched with amazement as she rapidly scaled the inner brickwork of the chimney. It was a fascinating thing to watch, and it was clear that Rita held a great deal of natural grace and good co-ordination. He couldn't help but admire the ease with which she reached the ruby.

"OK!" She called down, "I can't climb down and hold on to this. I'm going to need you to catch it!"

Roddy gulped. He'd never been one for catching. Not that he'd had much practice, really. It wasn't as if the dolls he played most of his sports with could truly play back.

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" He asked worriedly.

"We're about to find out…" Rita whispered so that he couldn't hear, then a bit louder, "Here we go!" She moved to the side a bit, getting a good grip with her feet so she could use both hands to aim the precious gem.

Before Roddy could protest, Rita dropped the ruby straight down to him. He kept his eyes on it as it fell. As his eyes focused on it, Rita blurred into the background. Unfortunately, so did the few chunks of grit that she'd dislodged in moving around. He didn't see them coming until one sharp, irritating little chunk hit him in the eye.

"Ow!" He blinked, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands.

"Hey, look out!" Rita called down in warning, "The ruby!"

Roddy looked up again through water-blurred eyes. Oh yes, the ruby…

With a loud thwack, the gem collided with his head, knocking him over into the coals again. The ruby, on the other hand, flew out at a tangent, heading straight for the hearth. Rita lost sight of it from where she was, but she heard the loud smash quite clearly.

"Oh no!" She began sliding down the chimney in the quickest, best controlled manner she could, also bringing down a cloud of soot. By the time she was all the way down it had turned into an avalanche of dirt. But that didn't bother her. All that mattered was the ruby.

"Where is it?!" She leapt forwards out of the dust cloud, frantically looking all around.

Roddy, meanwhile, was trying to pick himself out of the fireplace.

"Well," he dusted himself off, "That didn't go quite according to…" he trailed off, just then noticing that Rita was glaring at him through narrow eyes. She looked tensed, her fists raised.

Only then did he notice the small pile of red shards at her feet.

"Ah…"

Rita leapt at him.

* * *

End of Part Three

* * *

Well, there we go. Part three. I have no idea how long this will eventually be, but I'm sure you're noticing some similarities in the plot of this and the movie. I still wanted the ruby in. It seemed like a good way to get Roddy and Rita to interact.

More to come as soon as I finish writing it.

Thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Roddy, Rita and the entire Flushed Away cast, story and universe as a whole are the intellectual property of DeamWorks/Aardman. They, as well as any references to the film, are used without permission purely for the purposes of entertainment. This plot does, however, belong to me. It can be copied and pasted (should you choose to) as long as the author (me) is credited, and this disclaimer remains intact.

* * *

**Flushed Away: What if…?**

Part Four

* * *

To say Spike felt insecure about his current situation would have been an understatement. He was sat on an electric whisk, braving crosscurrents, eddies and gravity itself, secured to dry land only by the most flimsy of ropes. He wasn't even sure it was rope, judging by the way it kept on stretching and creaking. It was more like sodden wool.

"Careful Spike." Came the voice of Whitey from in front, "Don't look down."

Of course, the first thing Spike then did was look down – not so much at the water under and all around him, churning and rolling, but down the tunnel to the huge, raging waterfall that would mark a short tumble to a long demise.

Gulping loudly, although still barely audible over the roar of the water, Spike steeled himself and decided to just go for it.

Whitey and the other henchrats were mere centimetres away now, having boarded the Jammy Dodger before him. Thimblenose Ted had gone first, securing that frail-looking line between good, solid ground and the rocking, unstable deck of the Dodger.

He didn't really want to be there, but he couldn't lose face in front of the others. He had opted for Whitey and himself to stay ashore and keep the line secured. But, the large ex-lab rat had wanted to be part of the boarding. If he'd stayed alone then it would've looked like he'd bottled it. And he couldn't press the issue too much or they'd think him a coward. That was the last thing he wanted.

So, there he was, clinging onto the whisk with one hand and the guide-line with the other.

"Have you found anything yet?" he called across the ever-decreasing void between whisk and boat, trying to take his mind well and truly off his current situation.

"Nothing yet!" Whitey called back, "It looks like she abandoned ship!"

Spike would have pondered that for a moment, had his own vessel not collided with the boat, sending him flying forwards. Luckily the deck of the Dodger was there to catch him, even if it was hard and abrasive. It was a lucky escape, if a little undignified.

"Where's she gone?" Spike demanded, "She can't have gone far. Are you sure you searched everywhere?"

"We've all but turned the boat inside out," Fat Barry answered, somewhat of a rarity for the second largest rat of the group, "She ain't 'ere."

"Well, where is she then? She didn't just vanish into thin air!"

"There's only one place she could have gone." Ted spoke up matter-of-factly, emerging from the lower deck.

"Where?!"

Ted's answer was the simple pointing of a finger.

The entire quintet followed his gaze. The waterfall.

The collective gulp managed to drown out the sound of the water, if only for a moment…

* * *

Rita's fist collided with Roddy's face with a dull thud, sending him flailing backwards off the hearth. He hit the carpet with a loud grunt.

"Good grief!" He collected himself, clambering quickly back to his feet, "You try to do somebody a favour and- Ow!" he was cut short by a small chunk of pseudo-coal hitting him on the side of the head. He went tumbling, ending up under the bed.

"A favour?!" Rita cried in outrage, picking up another piece of coal a little larger than the first and leaping down onto the floor to give chase, "That ruby was from Queen Elizabeth's crown!"

Roddy ducked further under the bed, trying to seek refuge. Rita simply followed him, chasing him to all the way back to one of the legs.

"It fell down the drains of Buckingham Palace!" She let the chunk fly, narrowly missing his head.

"Well," he ducked behind the leg as she retrieved the missed shot, grinning sheepishly, "Maybe the Queen wears fake jewellery?"

"Keep still!" Rita screamed at him, enraged, throwing the coal at him even as he ducked back behind the leg again.

Roddy kept his eyes closely on her, dodging behind the leg as she tried to round it in an attempt to get him. She didn't even try to retrieve the coal this time, simply giving chase.

"Can't we just talk about this?" Roddy pleaded, somehow managing to keep the leg post between himself and this crazed woman.

"Real or not, that ruby was going to change my life!"

Roddy cowered behind the thick wooden leg, closing his eyes and covering his head with his arms to shield himself. To his surprise the expected onslaught never came.

Opening an eye and looking around, Roddy realised that he couldn't see Rita at all. Deciding to brave it, he let his hands fall to his side and rose to his feet, daring to peer around the leg. Rita was sat leaning against the wall at the head of the bed, head in her hand, looking somewhat deflated.

"Rita?" He asked, approaching cautiously.

"Just go away, please." She rubbed the bridge of her nose.

Roddy considered pointing out that this was his home. He couldn't exactly just leave it. But seeing Rita before him, he thought better of it, "Um… I'm sorry." He apologised gently.

Rita scoffed, "Sorry?" she looked up at him, climbing to her feet, "Me and my dad worked the drains for years. He broke every bone in his body trying to get that ruby. It was going to be the answer to all our prayers," she sighed, rising to her feet, "And now, look at it." She gestured towards the small pile of glass on the marble hearth; all that was left of the valued gem.

Roddy thought for a moment, "Well, maybe I can make it up to you?"

"Get stuffed." She replied, walking away from Roddy, her back to him.

"No, no, no." He followed her, trotting to keep up and block her path, "I mean it."

Rita stopped in her tracks, eying him suspiciously, trying to figure him out.

"See, we have this jewellery box," he moved out from under the bed, Rita following without really thinking about it. Roddy gestured up onto at a mirrored vanity table, "It's just crammed with rubies and diamonds. Real ones. I'm sure one of those would be more than an adequate replacement for your ruby." His eyes darted back over to the fireplace, surveying the little pile once more. Guilt rose deep in the pit of his stomach, even if it had only been an accident.

Rita looked from Roddy to the jewellery box and back again. She sighed heavily, as if conflicted, "How do I know this ain't just a load of old rubbish?"

"Well," Roddy tried to smile sweetly, "I suppose you'll just have to trust me."

Rita's eyes narrowed, trying to size him up. What did he have to gain from simply giving her the gems? Unless he felt guilt for the loss of the original, or was just being genuinely kind… After all, what use did a pampered house pet have for rubies and diamonds anyway? They held no value for him. All his needs were taken care of by his owners. He'd never go wanting,

"I must be out of my mind." Rita shook her head with a quiet sigh, then looked Roddy straight in the eye, "Alright, you've got yourself a deal."

* * *

"I must be out of my mind." Spike shook his head, drawing the only likely conclusion for his current situation. He was hanging from a rope – dangling, to be precise - suspended high above the fathomless depths of the water treatment cistern.

His four co-workers were in much the same situation, not that it seemed to phase them any. Somehow, after several failed attempts and a couple of near falls, the quintet had managed to fix up a line from the Jammy Dodger to the mouth of the tunnel. They'd then been able to lasso a further line around one of the higher located horizontal cross-pipes.

Spike couldn't recall exactly how they'd managed it, but it had worked, because here they were now, suspended high in mid air.

"Can you reach it, Spike?" Whitey called from somewhere behind him.

The larger rat had been pushing Spike backwards and forwards, swinging him in the direction of a walkway located along one of the walls. If he could grab it then they'd be able to find a way out, with any luck.

His fingers brushed against the cold steel handrail, slipping away as gravity pulled him back down.

"You need to push harder." Spike suggested as Whitey pushed him off again.

This time Spike managed to wrap his fingers around the rail, but the steam in the air had made it slippery. He lost his grip, again swinging back down.

"One more try!" He called back.

"Push him as hard as you can." Thimblenose Ted suggested.

With a loud grunt, Spike found himself flung back towards the wall much faster than any of the previous times. In fact, far too quickly…

"Aaaaah!" He cried out, grasping for the rail to try and stop himself. Unfortunately, his grip failed him yet again.

_Thunk!_

"Ow." He muffled in pain against the wall.

Trying to regain some composure, Spike peeled himself off the wall and set his feet down on the hatched mesh of the walkway. The old structure creaked, as if it hadn't been put under any stress in a long, long time. The bolts which held it to the wall, Spike had only just noticed, seemed more rusted than they ought to be.

"Spike, throw us a line!" Whitey called, jarring Spike back to reality.

One of his colleagues had untied the other end of his rope, the end that had held him suspended. Or, at least he hoped they had.

Shaking off a brief shiver that tried to run down his spine, Spike coiled up the rope, ready to throw it back out to the others in a moment. First, he untied the end that he was attached to, securing it around the handrail with a firm knot.

"You lot ready?" He called out to the others. A few nods said yes, so Spike let it fly. Catching it first time, they began reeling themselves in by pulling on it.

The walkway let out a loud groan of protest against the added stress, clearly neither used to nor wanting to be disturbed like this. Each tug of the rope seemed to sway the apparently fragile support a little bit more until the bolts themselves seemed to move.

Soon enough all five rats were standing on the small elevation, the walkway giving up it's protests and accepting the fact that it was being used again.

Spike breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing the sweat from his brow.

"What now?" Ted asked.

He had a point.

"Um…" Spike's hesitation lasted only a moment, "Look for a door, or a loose panel. Something… Anything."

They each took a step in different directions, eager to find a way out of the vertigo-inducing tower. The walkway gave out a loud groan and an unstable shudder.

"Easy does it." Spike warned, talking as much to the walkway itself as the other henchrats. Too much bouncing from their footfalls and it would be a long fall to a bleach-filled future. That thought, along with the strong smell of chlorine in the air, were enough to prompt Spike to tread carefully. He could only hope the others would get the idea too.

"Hey, Spike," Whitey called him over, "I think I found one."

His back to the wall, as if walking on a cliff edge, the smallest rat of the group worked his way over to the largest.

"I think this panel's loose." Whitey told him, taking the time to push on the panel a couple of times. Spike couldn't tell if any motion he saw was a result of the section of wall moving, or the walkway beneath their feet.

"See if you can get it off." He instructed, eager to get off the walkway.

It wouldn't hold forever.

* * *

There was a loud creak as the hinges on the antique jewellery box opened, letting light into the dark stained box, illuminating the precious contents inside.

"Ta-da!" Roddy presented, "As promised, the Kensington jewels."

Rita looked on at them, awestruck. When she and her dad had found the original ruby the sight had been impressive enough. And the value of it was almost unimaginable, at least for them. It would have given her family enough money to live comfortably for many years to come.

But the collection before her now was totally mind-blowing. There were more gems there than she'd know what to do with. And more than enough wealth to keep her family going indefinitely, no doubt for a generation or two to come. Heck, the whole of Ratropolis could probably have lived off them!

Roddy reached in, picking up a large ruby and presenting it to her, "A genuine star-cut ruby."

"It's just beautiful." Rita gasped in wonderment. As fantastic as the original had been, this one was even more spectacular.

"And the best part?" Roddy banged it against the open lip of the jewellery box for emphasis, smiling warmly, "Unbreakable." He held it out to her.

Slowly, carefully, as if it were actually brittle or delicate despite Roddy's demonstration, Rita reached out and accepted it. It was heavier than the first one had been. It was smoother to the touch too. And the fact that she was actually holding it - the future for both herself and her family - took her breath away.

"I don't know what to say…" she confessed. But a voice in her head still nagged at her, "But why?"

"Because," Roddy explained, "A gentleman always repays his debts. Especially to a lady."

_Even if she does attack you with coal_, he added as an afterthought.

Rita was amazed that a total stranger would do such a thing. She couldn't get her head around it. Maybe she'd misjudged him?

A soft smile washed over her, taking Roddy by surprise. He hadn't seen her smile. It seemed to defrost the icy persona that she'd been displaying to him so far.

"Thank you." She said gently, barely audible.

"You're welcome." Roddy replied warmly.

"Well," Rita shrugged, "I s'pose I best be off." That had been the deal after all.

She heard Roddy say goodbye as she turned her back, hopping down from the vanity table with ease. She stashed the ruby in her back pocket, briefly turning her head to look back up at Roddy. He watched her closely as she walked out of the door.

Roddy sighed, the silence once again permeating the house. Maybe he should have offered to let her stay a bit, maybe grab something to eat? After all, the journey back to her world in the sewers could well have been a very long one for all he knew.

"Too late now, old chap." He sighed to himself, "She's long-"

His thoughts were interrupted by the creaking of a door. The front door.

Roddy's eyes went wide with alarm, realising it must have been Rita who opened it. His family weren't due back for a few days.

"Rita!" He yelled with a start, climbing down as quickly as he could and giving chase, "Rita!"

Entering the hallway, he saw that the front door was indeed slightly ajar, just wide enough for a mouse to sneak out of.

"Rita!" He called again, grabbing the edge of the door and pulling as he stepped out onto the top doorstep. Frantically, he looked around to see if he could see her.

Sure enough, there she was, hopping down the bottom step.

"Rita!" he shouted, this time getting her attention.

She twisted her head around, seeing Roddy standing by the door. She turned around to face him, a puzzled expression on her face.

With a sigh of relief, Roddy quickly bounded down to where she was, grabbing her by the arm, trying to tug her back up into the house, "Quick, come with me!"

"Roddy, what are you doing?" She demanded, resisting his pulls. Had he gone crazy?

"You don't understand," His eyes pleaded with her, "It's not safe out here. There's a-"

"Meow."

They both turned to look. There, overshadowing the two mice, was a rather large black and white moggie. She eyed the rodent pair, hungrily licking her lips. She bared her teeth in a Cheshire-cat-like grin.

"-cat…" Roddy finished.

"Uh-oh…"

"Um…" Roddy looked up at the towering feline, grinning sheepishly, "Hello."

"Meow…" The cat tilted her head in response.

"Roddy," Rita whispered out of the side of her mouth.

"Yes?"

"Run!" She grabbed his arm, dragging him along behind her, taking off down the base of garden walls that ran all the way down the street.

The cat looked startled for a moment, but it soon passed. Lunch was getting away. She coiled up her hind legs, then sprang into action, giving chase. Roddy couldn't help but look back, and he nearly tripped over his own feet in the process, the only thing keeping him upright was the fact that Rita had him by the arm.

He couldn't help but notice they were running away from the house, "Where are you taking us?!"

"Just trust me!" She yelled back, not even turning her head.

"Ok…" He said reluctantly, looking back. The moggie was gaining.

"Jump!" Rita's voice pulled him back.

"Wha-?" He gasped, looking forwards again just in time to see the curb ahead.

"Jump!" Rita shouted again.

She released Roddy's arm, and he saw her speed up, leaping off the edge of the pavement and onto the road. When he didn't see her reappear, but heard a splash instead, he realised just where they were heading.

"Woah, woah, woah!" He yelped, skidding to a halt, only just avoiding going over the edge. He teetered on the edge for a moment, almost comically. Sure enough, there was a drainage grate just in front of him.

"The sewers?!"

"Meow." He heard behind him.

Roddy twisted on his feet just in time to see the cat, "Yargh!" he screamed, losing his balance and falling backwards through the grate.

The cat became a silhouette against the bright daylight above. There was a splash, followed closely by a sinking sensation. As he looked up, the daylight seemed to fade completely.

Was this it?

* * *

End of Part Four

* * *

So many ideas, such a small vocabulary. Still, I think I finally have this story laid out exactly in my mind from start to finish. Which means I will actually complete it.

Thanks for reading. I hope you'll leave a review. All advice or encouragement is always welcome.

As always, stick around. The next chapter isn't too far away.

Thanks for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Roddy, Rita and the entire Flushed Away cast, story and universe as a whole are the intellectual property of DeamWorks/Aardman. They, as well as any references to the film, are used without permission purely for the purposes of entertainment. This plot does, however, belong to me. It can be copied and pasted (should you choose to) as long as the author (me) is credited, and this disclaimer remains intact.

* * *

**Flushed Away: What if…?**

Part Five

* * *

Roddy wasn't, it was fair to say, the strongest of swimmers. In his own opinion, a ten tonne slab of granite was more likely to float than he was. It wasn't that he lacked the motivation to try and swim right now - he knew very well that if he didn't so much as try then he would drown. But he'd simply never been put in a situation like this before. He'd never _had _to swim.

Boy, oh boy, did he wish he knew how.

_Come on Roddy, you've seen this done on telly a dozen times before._

Kick, thrust, kick, thrust, kick, thrust. His arms and legs flailed as he tried desperately to swim upwards towards the surface, but was rewarded with mere centimetres. For the most part, he just seemed to be moving sideways, the flow taking him downstream. Still, at least he could see the surface. There it was, well within sight, taunting him. He kicked out in frustration, yelling out bubbles.

Suddenly, Roddy felt a pair of hands grab him by the shoulders, and he found himself being dragged up towards the surface. He broke through, gasping in breaths as deep as his lungs would allow. Rising to the surface had been surprise enough, but the fact that he now stayed there was even more baffling.

There was an arm around his chest, he realised. He tried turning to see who it was.

"Stop squirmin', or you'll slip and go under again." Rita instructed. So she was his saviour.

He let his body go limp in relaxation as they slowly swam towards the water's edge. Rita manoeuvred so that Roddy could climb out onto the concrete walkway. He paused only to turn and offer her a hand up, but in the time it took him to do so she was already up and out, wringing the water from her hair and clothes.

Roddy simply sat there, reclining back against his hands, legs sprawling towards the water's edge.

"Thank you." He exhaled with a sigh, glad to be alive.

"Phew!" Rita let herself flop down on her back, "You're welcome."

Roddy came to notice that the air was still and quiet, the only sounds being the far-off sonance of running water, and the soft rise and fall of Rita's breath. He also noticed that this wasn't the same section of sewer that they'd fallen into.

"Where are we?" he asked, worriedly looking up and down the sewer.

Rita looked around. There were no signs hung overhead, and the channel was deep, but very narrow. This wasn't a commonly used route. The Dodger definitely wouldn't have fit.

"I'm not sure." She admitted after a moment, "But the water's flowing that way." She pointed to her right, "So I think that'd lead to the Hyde Park treatment plant."

"H-Hyde Park?" Roddy stuttered, "We're in Hyde Park?"

Rita eyed him curiously, "As far as I can tell…"

"No, no, no…" Roddy placed his head in his hands, closing his eyes, "I have to get back to Kensington!"

He felt a hand rest lightly on his shoulder. Opening his eyes again, he saw it was Rita, a small smile on her face.

"Cheer up, Roddy." She encouraged, taking a step back and resting her hands on her belt, "It's not so bad down here."

"Not so bad?" He asked, disbelievingly, "It doesn't look so good from where I'm sitting."

Rita frowned. Roddy winced, realising that she'd taken it as a personal insult. That wasn't what he'd meant.

"Sorry," He said quietly, "I just want to get home."

Rita shrugged off her mood, a certain degree of sympathy overpowering it. She could certainly relate. She knew all too well what it was like to be away from home for prolonged periods of time.

"Tell you what," She said cheerily, "I need to get back to my boat. You help me retrieve it, I'll take you home. Deal?" She offered her hand.

Roddy rose to his feet, regarding her offer for a moment. Help Rita to retrieve her boat and get a free lift home, or be left stranded here to fend for himself? It wasn't exactly the most difficult decision to make. She knew this world far better than he did, and who was he to know what treasures or terrors it could hold? Having a guide and escort was definitely the way to go.

"Deal." He shook her hand.

They both smiled.

* * *

"Where are we, Spike?" Whitey asked, looking around. The way out that the henchrats had found hadn't quite turned out as they'd expected. Far from it, in fact. Rather than leading them to the surface, it had led them up to the top of one of the water treatment plant's towering funnels. The view that Whitey was now taking in was a sight-seer's paradise over most of inner-city London.

"Well," Spike faltered, his look one of surprise, "We're…"

"Up the creek without a paddle?" Thimblenose Ted offered, his tone made heavy by the sarcasm.

"Oy!" Spike protested angrily, "It's a setback, I'll admit. But we can get down from here!"

"How?" Ladykiller asked, speaking up for the first time all day.

"Well, I… Um…"

Spike looked down. Not his best idea to date. He felt his legs turn to jelly beneath him, and he all but jumped back so that he was flat against the chimney stack. They were a long way up from ground level, and Spike didn't like heights. Not one tiny little bit. Why were they always working their way higher? First the Jammy Dodger and the waterfall, then the cistern, and now this? Why?!

"What's wrong with you?" Ted asked, noting the beads of sweat that had formed on Spike's forehead.

Spike glowered, shooting daggers Ted's way, "Nuthin! I'm just thinking!"

"It shows."

Spike ignored the comment. He needed to think of a way down.

* * *

The Toad was pacing the floor of what constituted a living room, at least as far as the floodgate control went. It was dark, warm and humid. Just how he liked it.

But the pleasant atmosphere, combined with the gentle glow from the fireplace, did little to lighten his mood.

For over a day now he'd been waiting for the rats to return. And for over a day he'd heard not so much as a whisper from them. It was barely two days until the world cup final, and if his plans were to have any chance of succeeding, he needed that cable back!

Coupled with all this was the fact that the professional help he'd called in hadn't shown up yet either.

"Where is he?!" Toad ranted, waving his arms around in emphasis as he paced, "Why is he always late?!"

"Always fashionably late, my impatient English cousin." Came a voice from the shadows, laced with a heavy, deep tones French accent, "I know no other way."

The Toad turned slowly, "Le Frog?"

"He, he, he." The smaller amphibian chuckled heartily, stepping into the light, "Bonjour."

"You're late!" The Toad grumbled, "Now listen; Rita has stolen something irreplaceable. A master cable of unique design and purpose!" he gestured extravagantly, "I want it back!"

"Pfft." Le Frog waved dismissively, "Do not worry. I will get eet back for you."

"Once I get it back," The Toad continued unabashed, heading deep into monologue territory, "my plan will be complete. To wash away, once and for all, the curse, the scourge of rats!"

Le Frog rolled his eyes, "Forgive me, my warty English cousin, but zis bizarre obsession with the rats, eet is not good for you! You are becoming what we French call, 'Le Fruitcake'"

The Toad growled under his breath, anger rising, "Perhaps you forget that it was a rat who cast me from paradise?!"

"Oh, please…" Le Frog sighed, "Not the scrapbook again…"

He grabbed a bottle of wine from the nearby tabletop, pouring himself a quick glass. He swilled it around in his hand. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Roddy let out a loud, exasperated sigh. He hung his head in emphasis. Rita and he had been walking for what felt like hours, with barely a word spoken between them, nor a halt to catch their breath. With no destination in sight, wherever that may have been, Roddy was beginning to wonder if there was actually a boat at all, and if Rita was in fact just leading him around in circles until he passed out. That would give her ample time to steal his bow tie.

_Steal your bow tie?_ He shook his head in disbelief, _Roddy, old chap, I do believe you're losing your marbles._

But who could really blame him, in this dark, damp, sunless expanse of maze-like tunnels. Every single brick in every single wall looked almost identical. Every pipe was the same in his eye. And he was sure he'd seen that slug somewhere before.

Roddy eyed the poor creature suspiciously as he passed. The slug simply gazed back innocently.

_I have my eyes on you, buddy. _Roddy's eyes narrowed further.

He turned his gaze back in the direction they were walking. Rita was a little way ahead of him, walking calmly enough. She sure looked like she knew what she was doing.

He sighed heavily once more, adding a little tut for effect.

"You sigh like that again," Rita spoke sternly without even turning to look at him, "And I'll use this belt to tie your mouth shut."

Roddy grinned sheepishly, and Rita could hear it in his voice, "Sorry… Didn't realise I was doing it." He plucked up the courage to ask the question that was in the forefront of his mind, "Um, Rita… When can we stop to eat? I'm starving."

His stomach growled, as if speaking to back up Roddy's point.

Rita slowed down a bit, letting Roddy catch up to her.

"Well," she began, a dry tone in her voice, "when you see a pizza parlour or something around here, you let me know."

"Ah, yes." Roddy nodded, getting her point. No doubt she was hungry too, as he'd thought back in the house. If there had been food nearby, then they would already have stopped off. Instead, they had no choice but to trudge onwards.

Rita looked at him. He looked tired, cold and hungry. Not that she was surprised. The suit he wore looked like it had been designed for a toy or something, rather than a rat. It still held on to a fair bit of water from before, unlike her own clothes, which breathed and were almost dry. The retained water was chilling him.

"It's not too far," her voice was soft and sensitive – at least as soft and sensitive as Roddy had ever heard it, "We can eat and warm up when we reach the Dodger."

Roddy raised a questioning eyebrow in her direction, "Dodger?"

"The Jammy Dodger." She explained, getting a blank look, "My boat."

"Oh…" Realisation dawned, "Quite an interesting name."

Rita shrugged aknowledgingly, "It suits."

An image of a small waterborne vessel was forming in Roddy's mind; a long, narrow profiled boat, built from the remnants of an old jammy dodger tin, as well as associated tubes and boxes. Of course, in his mind's eye, those weren't the best of building materials from which to structure a boat, and it rapidly sank, leaving it's occupants treading the water.

Shaking himself back to reality, he realised Rita had pulled ahead again. Roddy trotted to catch up to her.

"Is it a good boat?" Roddy asked, instantly realising that asking the captain of a vessel if it was a good boat was much akin to him basting himself, sitting in the oven for an hour or two on low heat, then stepping out and asking the neighbourhood cat if it liked roast mouse. Needless to say, a somewhat silly question.

"It's the best!" Rita said enthusiastically, just as Roddy had expected, "Not bad for a homemade tug."

Rita went on, explaining some of the more intricate details of her beloved ship. Much to Roddy's surprise, he hung on every word.

* * *

To Spike's immense dismay, the only way was down. And by down, it was back _down_ the very same way they had come _up._ It was beginning to seem like a wasted journey. And there was one thing that still puzzled him: How had Rita managed to get out of the treatment plant?

Clearly, she knew something he didn't. Nor any of the other henchrats, for that matter.

Shelving that particular train of thought for a while, Spike thought it best to concentrate on matters currently at hand. Namely, getting back to the Dodger and the jet-ski blenders without falling all the way down into the cistern.

The line they'd used to get from the Dodger to the cross-pipe was still hanging there, still under tension. And the five slack ropes that they'd used to monkey-swing across from the pipe to the walkway were still swaying from side to side in the turbulent updraft.

At least getting back would be a piece of cake compared to getting up there in the first place, Spike thought with satisfaction. There was far less to fear in that than in the unknown.

"OK Whitey, you first." He instructed.

Whitey gave a brief nod, then started clambering up one of the ropes. He made scaling it look like child's play, reaching the cross-pipe in no time at all.

"OK," He called back, "You lot grab a line and I'll pull you up!"

Spike gave a thumbs up in acknowledgement, then tied a large knot around his midriff, securing it firmly. Distraction was already setting in as he tried not to think about the large, looming drop. His gaze wandered over to his left, where the other three rats were all securing themselves to a line.

"OK Whitey," Ted began, "Pull us up nice and slow."

Taking hold of one line at a time, Whitey lifted them up to his level. He looked like a world champion at the tug of war. His footing was sturdy and his grip secure.

Spike began to wonder what he was worrying about in the first place.

As per usual, he went last. Having seen the other three manage fine, he felt totally at ease.

"You ready for this, Spike?" His friend shouted over the roar of the waterfalls.

Carefully mounting the handrail of the walkway, every step causing a creak or a groan, Spike managed to balance himself on the very edge, free from obstruction.

"Ready!" He shouted back enthusiastically.

Whitey nodded, then bent his knees a little, taking the strain once more. He gave one sudden, hard yank on the line, the knot tightening almost painfully around Spike's waist.

"Ow! Be careful!" He complained.

Whitey clearly hadn't heard, because the next pull on the rope was just as ferocious, if not more so. Spike was yanked off balance, and he slipped off the handrail. He fell, screaming all the way, arcing through the air like a pendulum. At the height of his sway he welcomed the short-lived sensation of weightlessness, taking the opportunity to catch his breath before gravity took full hold of him again and the screaming would resume.

To Spike's own surprise he was much quieter on the return journey, barely a note over one hundred decibels escaping his lips.

For a moment, amidst his tossing, turning and screaming, he found himself flying superman style. Unfortunately, this meant he was looking down at the water as it cascaded down the walls of the cistern, crashing into the depths of the pool below.

He scrunched his eyes tight shut, and the unusual sensation of weightlessness returned.

_Strange,_He thought, _That shun't be happenin' yet._

A fraction of a second later, he felt the rope around his waist go slack. He opened his eyes instantly. Without realising it, he'd ended up on his back, flying forwards feet first.

The weightless sensation had passed. He was definitely falling again. And, to his dismay and terror, he could see Whitey and the others watching him from high above. His albino companion still held one end of the rope in his hands. Unfortunately for Spike, he could see the other end falling back away from him, towards equilibrium.

His first thought was, _How'd that get loose?_

His second thought was, _Oh crap…_

And his third thought was, well, indefinable.

"Keep your legs straight!" Whitey offered from high above, his voice all but drowned out by the falling torrents.

Legs straight. Yeah. That'd help.

Spike held his nose.

* * *

"Ta-da!" Rita gestured with a grin, "And there she is."

Roddy looked out over the raging river of doom. He and Rita were now stood along the banks of a much wider water channel. It was much faster flowing than the one he'd arrived in too. It reminded him of a flash flood on an extreme weather documentary he'd seen once on Tabitha's telly.

Just across the way from them was a second tunnel, labelled "Hyde Park Treatment Centre."

"I don't see anything." Roddy admitted, his hand above his eyes, squinting into the darkness.

"Really?" Rita asked, moving closer to the water's edge and copying his stance.

Roddy tried to block out the distractions around him; the sound of the flowing rapids; the smell of the sewer around him. He tried to penetrate the darkness.

"There!" He pointed, realising he could see the outline of a seemingly large object just bobbing around inside the shadows. It was definitely big enough to be a boat.

Rita slapped him on the back, "There you go. What d'you think?"

Roddy focused as hard as he could, but it remained largely undefined. Just a dark silhouette amidst the darkness.

"I can't see much, to be honest." He admitted to her, "Maybe we should get a little closer?"

Rita nodded, only halfway paying attention. She'd noted a line from the walkway, travelling into the treatment plant tunnel, which definitely hadn't been there before she'd left the Dodger. Her first thought was that it was more scavengers.

Not that that thought worried her much. Scavengers had an unwritten code of conduct. They never stole or scavenged from each other's boats. It just wasn't the done thing. That was one of the first things her dad had taught her when she'd been growing up, accompanying him on too many adventures to count. And most scavengers, if not all, seemed to honour this unwritten code..

At that moment she realised that Roddy was still talking.

"-we get down there?"

Rita shook her head, rattling her brains into gear.

"Sorry, what?" She asked, looking up at him.

"I asked, how do we get down there?" He repeated, "To your boat, I mean."

"Hmm…" Rita rubbed her chin in thought, eying up the new line. It looked like it went all the way down the tunnel to the Dodger. It certainly moved and bobbed about like it was attached to something floating on the water. For the most part, the line was taut, hanging well above the water for as far as she could see.

"How strong are your arms?" She smirked mischievously.

* * *

End of Part Five

* * *

Well, there we are. Things progressing nicely. Le Frog brought into the story. Spike and the others closing in on an unsuspecting Rita and Roddy. It certainly seems to be coming together. Things will definitely pick up pace from hereon in, so watch this space.

Part Six will be up shortly (The next day or two).

Thank you for reading, and thank you for leaving a review.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Roddy, Rita and the entire Flushed Away cast, story and universe as a whole are the intellectual property of DeamWorks/Aardman

Disclaimer: Roddy, Rita and the entire Flushed Away cast, story and universe as a whole are the intellectual property of DeamWorks/Aardman. They, as well as any references to the film, are used without permission purely for the purposes of entertainment. This plot does, however, belong to me. It can be copied and pasted (should you choose to) as long as the author (me) is credited, and this disclaimer remains intact.

* * *

**Flushed Away: What if…?**

Part Six

* * *

Roddy found himself in what he could only describe as the most unusual situation of his life to date. He was hanging, upside-down, on a line cast from one end on the shore, to the other end tied to what he hoped was a boat. The whole world was the wrong way up.

But it wasn't the compromising position that left him disorientated. It was the fast-flowing water barely a few centimetres below his head.

He gulped loudly, although the sound was drowned out by the rush of the water. Closing his eyes for a moment alleviated the dizziness. When he opened them again, he made sure not to look down, but dead ahead.

Thick rubber soles, Union flag trousers, long pink tail…. Rita seemed to be doing a much better job of this than he was. But then, this kind of activity did seem to be her sort of thing.

Still, at least the view wasn't too bad.

"How are you holding up back there?" Rita's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Roddy nodded in reply, only at that point realising that she wasn't looking back, "Oh, not too bad, actually." He hoped his voice hadn't betrayed him, "It's just a shame there isn't an easier way to do this." He added with a nervous laugh.

"It's not too far now," Rita reassured him, then added jokingly, "So you could swim from here if you like."

Roddy looked along the length of rope before them. The boat, still in shadow – although much more easily distinguishable than before – wasn't much further way. But, at this point, the water was far more turbulent than before.

"I'd rather not." He confessed earnestly.

"Well then." Rita pulled herself along even further, "Let's keep going."

* * *

Much to his surprise, Spike found that the water at the bottom of the cistern wasn't as bad as it looked. It didn't burn because of the chemicals. It didn't boil him like a new potato. If anything, it felt more like a hot-tub.

There was a slight current off to one side, where the water was being gently sucked into another inlet. Spike wondered where it led to, but thought better than to try and find out.

"You OK down there, Spike?" He heard Whitey shout from a long way above.

A quick check gave him the answer. Two arms, two legs, one tail, one head….

"Yeah, I'm fine Whitey!"

There was a slight splash off to the side, which he soon realised was a rope. There were several dubious looking knots more or less evenly spaced along it's length, clearly where they'd tied the shorter lengths together in order for it to reach him.

"Grab hold!" Thimblenose Ted's voice permeated the violence of the waterfalls as they crashed into the pool, "We haven't got all day!"

Spike rolled his eyes, deciding to save time by not responding and simply tying the rope around his waist. A couple of tugs indicated that he was ready for the ascent, and he soon found himself lifted clear of the water.

Looking on as his four comrades in crime hoisted him out of the water, Spike couldn't help but notice that they'd tied off themselves – and the rope from which he now dangled – with the line from the Dodger to the end of the tunnel. Even if they dropped him, none of them could fall.

"Why didn't we think of that before?" He muttered, to no-one in particular.

* * *

The deck rocked back and forth below Roddy's feet, and he was forced to swallow hard in order to steel himself against a growing sense of nausea rising in the pit of his stomach.

The green tint that washed over his face wasn't lost on Rita, "First time on a boat, huh?"

Roddy nodded, gulping, "Uh-huh."

"Don't worry, it'll pass" She reassured him, taking the time to check out every possible hiding place on her boat for intruders. There were none, but that still left the question of the line they'd just crawled along.

Roddy held firmly onto the side of the boat, "Really? How long does it take?"

"Usually?" Rita cleared her throat, taking up position at the helm and doing her pre-launch checks, "A while…"

Roddy decided it best to just swallow and bear it. He knew that the more he thought about it, the worse it would be. So he needed a distraction. And Rita was it. He closely watched every move she made as she prepped the vessel, twiddled the controls, tested the helm. It seemed she was being awfully thorough.

"Is everything alright?" Roddy asked, partially curious, partially concerned.

Rita turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised questioningly, "What makes you ask?"

Roddy noted the avoidance of the question, "Well, you just seem to be doing…. Whatever it is that you're doing…. Awfully thoroughly."

Rita gave off a slightly bemused chuckle which Roddy found strangely reassuring.

"Don't worry so much." She returned to the last check, "The boat won't sink from under you, you know."

Taking Roddy by surprise, Rita jumped down from the cockpit to the deck with a loud thud, taking the engine chain in her hands and giving it a firm yank. The first couple of efforts proved fruitless, but the third yielded a reassuring splutter from the lower decks. A small plume of black smoke emerged from the chimney stack.

"You almost had it that time." Roddy leaned back against the side of the boat.

"Almost," Rita nodded, "Could you give me a hand?"

Stepping forwards purposefully, he rolled up his sleeves and adorned a serious, businesslike look, "Aye skipper. How can I help?"

Rita rested her hands on her belt, smirking at him with a slight scoff. She watched as he rubbed his hands together determinedly.

"Hold your horses, matey. I need you to go into the cockpit and work the throttle for me."

Roddy saluted, kicking his feet together and standing to attention. He then turned on his heels and quick-marched over to the controls. Looking over them, they all seemed so confusing, so foreign, so… alien. Not surprising since he'd never piloted a boat before.

"Um…" He looked back over his shoulder, "Which one's the throttle?"

Rita rolled her eyes, "It's the big grey lever."

"And what do you want me to do with it?"

"Yank it out and throw it overboard."

"Right-o Capt- wait, what?" he looked at her and blinked.

Rita couldn't stifle the giggles as they erupted, "It's a throttle, Roddy. What do you think you do with it?"

"Throttle it?" He offered earnestly.

Narrowing her eyes, Rita tried to figure out if he was being serious or not. The slight tremor in the corner of his mouth – clearly trying not to grin – gave him away.

"OK, mister smarty-pants, just pull on that lever when I tell you to, or else it's the long walk for you."

"Long walk?"

"A long walk off a short pier."

Roddy saluted, "Yes Ma'am." And turned back to his duties.

Rita chuckled lightly. Having a first mate was turning out to be more fun than she'd expected.

"OK, and… Pull!"

* * *

Spike and the others were all safely out of the water. Securely tied to the Dodger, somewhere up the tunnel and out of sight, the small henchrat allowed himself to glance down into the depths of the cistern once again. Despite the warm updrafts from the water below, Spike felt a sinister chill run up his spine.

Had he really come that far?

"Guys," Thimblenose Ted broke Spike's train of though, "Look at the rope."

The direction he was pointing followed the line to the Dodger, which kept growing taut and then slack with regular frequency. Following the length to the tied-off end, the simple knot which had secured it was clearly working loose with each stressful jolt it received.

"What d'you think's causing that?" Whitey asked, puzzled.

Spike had realised it in an instant, "Rita…" he said beneath his breath.

One more jolt, and the knot securing the line came loose.

"Hold your breath, lads." Spike warned, mustering a little courage that he thought ought to be beyond him at that point, "This is gonna get rough!"

* * *

"C'mon, damnit!" Rita grumbled in frustration as she forced the Dodger's throttle to full force, "Why aren't you moving?"

Even at full thrust, the little ship had remained immobile. True, the currents that were pulling the boat backwards were strong, but when she'd come down initially it hadn't required full throttle to hold that position. By any measure, they should have been pulling upstream.

So what was wrong? Broken impeller? No, she could hear it. Grounded? Not likely in this current.

No, something was definitely amiss.

"Um, Rita?" Roddy's voice broke in.

"Nor now, Roddy." She waved her hand without even turning back to look, "I'm trying to get us moving."

"But Rita…" There was a slight whine to his tone, mixed in with a little pleading.

It was enough to grab her attention.

"What is it?" She turned, rolling her eyes in the process.

Roddy pointed to a line cast from the stern, flapping about in the water as it was put under the strain of the boat, "What's this?"

Rita was about to answer, when suddenly it went slack, as if cut. The Dodger suddenly jerked forwards, free of whatever obstruction the rope had symbolised.

Rita managed to maintain her balance at the helm, turning back to steer the boat. She heard a soft thud, and assumed it was Roddy falling.

"Whatever that was, we're free now." She pushed the throttle forwards again, allowing them to power through the turbulent crosscurrents. Progress was comparatively slow, but they were moving in the right direction.

The sound of Roddy picking himself up and dusting off was barely audible over the roar of the water, but at least that meant he was fine. That came as a slight relief. Not that he could really do himself much harm just falling on the deck, though. Unless he managed to end up overboard, but Rita doubted he'd venture to the sides of the boat until he got his sea-legs.

"Anything I can do to help?" came an unexpected offer from the gentleman rat.

"Um…" The offer had taken her by surprise, "Ok. Sure. See that line at the front?" she pointed to the one that had given the Dodger purchase on the wrought iron bars.

Roddy nodded, then realised she couldn't see him, given she was still looking forwards, "Yes?"

"Think you could manage to reel that in as we pass through the bars?"

Nodding confidently – or at least, in an attempt to breath some confidence into himself – Roddy stepped forwards without so much as a word.

Having a ship-hand was already proving very useful, Rita thought, allowing a slight smile to spread across her lips. She realised just how often she was allowing that to happen.

* * *

Whitey was confused, bordering on alarmed. One minute he'd been standing safe and secured on a cross-pipe, dry, warm and secure. Now, he found himself being dragged slowly upstream, in cold, rampant waters.

He was glad for the rope, stopping him from following that current back into that ever so long fall.

A spluttering voice, filled not just with water, but with a slight lacing of fear could vaguely be made out over the ambient roar, "Whitey! Grab the rope!"

Which rope? He could make out several; one for each of the rats being drawn in the Dodger's wake, and the main line that represented the main reason they were moving in the right direction.

Wait, maybe that was it? Their best way out of this was back aboard the boat. That meant pull on the big line.

With grim determination, Whitey reached with both hands for the rope.

* * *

"OK, I've got it!" Roddy called back to the cockpit as he reeled the line around his arm. The rope was deceptively thin, betraying little of the strength that it must have had to hold strong against the forces of the current.

It was strange. He certainly wouldn't have put his life in the hands of this old, rotted length. But then again, he wasn't an experienced mariner. Rita, on the other hand…

He hadn't been around her that long, but he was already feeling a strong sense of respect for the streetwise attitude she had shown so-far. At any rate, it certainly put him to shame.

"Cheers, Roddy!" She called back from the helm gratefully, "Just wrap it up and toss it below!"

"Aye aye, skipper!" He saluted with elaborate vigour. He noted as she rolled her eyes with a slight smirk. He felt one of his own cross his lips.

Back to the task in hand, he soon had the rope wound around his elbow in a neat coil. Moving back from the bow, towards the ladder that led into the hold, he tossed it listlessly, satisfied that it had ended up in the right place when he heard the dull thud and none of the accompanying sounds of catastrophe that he'd half-expected.

Rubbing his hands together as if cleaning them off, he looked up again. The Dodger was well clear of the iron bars now, almost to the mouth of the tunnel. The current, whilst still strong, was measurably calmer now if their rate of progress was anything to go by. Even the roar seemed to have subsided a little bit.

As he moved to look forwards again, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, forcing him to do a double take. There was something attached to them via the stern-rope that he and Rita has dismissed from their thoughts after they'd worked their way free.

And whatever it was, it seemed to be gaining on them.

"Rita?"

This time she looked back without question or protest.

Roddy simply pointed aft. He watched as Rita squinted, trying to focus better on the object.

"What the heck is that?" She asked.

"You don't know?" Roddy was puzzled. It was, after all, her ship. He'd assumed it was her line too.

"Not a clue." She admitted, blinking, then squinting to see a second time, "Wait, it seems to be moving.

Roddy nodded.

"Wait a minute…" Rita shook her head in disbelief, "It can't be!"

"Can't be what?"

"Rats!"

* * *

By now, all of the henchrats had gained purchase on Whitey as he reeled them in. They held on tightly, and it just made the job harder for him, but he didn't let it stop him.

He wanted to be on dry ground as much as any rat did.

"I think they've seen us!" The shrill voice behind him made him jerk, almost losing his grip.

Looking up, he noticed the two figures on the boat looking in their direction. One, dressed in green, stood at the helm. Whitey recognised Rita instantly. The second, apparently wearing a white shirt and black trousers, was close to the aft of the small vessel.

He also noted, with alarm, that it was working to untie the end of the rope.

* * *

"Rats?" Roddy questioned in disbelief, "How did rats get attached to your boat?"

"I don't know!" Rita replied tersely, "But we have to shake them! Quick, untie the rope!"

Leaping quickly into action, he dived for the stern. His hands were on the line in an instant, trying to undo what looked like an organised chaos of tangled rope. It was an absolute mess. Whoever had done it clearly didn't want it undoing. Every time he loosened a bit of it, another bit tightened.

He soon found himself going in circles. And every moment was one more wasted.

Roddy had no idea who these rats were, but Rita was clearly not eager to meet them. And that was reason enough for him to feel the same.

To his dismay, the knot just wouldn't budge.

"I can't get it open!" He called back to the cockpit with alarm. He glared at the rope, hoping that would somehow force it into submission. But, being a rope, it remained impervious to such intimidation.

"Then cut it off with something!"

Looking around frantically, he saw a blunt pair of scissors secured to the back of the cockpit. They looked old and blunt, but it was better than nothing.

Desperation filling his every move, he pounced on the opportunity, prising the means to cut the rope free of their restraints and heading back to the line. Gripping each of the oversized finger-holes tightly in both hands, he lined them up with the rope.

He was just about to cut, when, "I wouldn't be doin' that if I was you."

Roddy looked up slowly. Standing – no, towering – over him was without a doubt the largest Rat he had ever laid eyes on. It was well dressed in an albeit wet suit, dripping dirty green water onto the deck. Each of it's arms were as thick as Roddy's own body, and he couldn't fully stifle the yelp that came from his lips.

Roddy also noted with discomfort the four other rats accompanying this big, white brute.

"Um, R-Rita?" Roddy said in a highish voice.

"Just cut the rope, Roddy!" Rita was concentrating hard on steering the Dodger clear of the rapids, so she hadn't yet seen what was going on in the aft quarters.

"You may want to see this…" came the hushed response.

"Look, I'm a little busy trying to steer us clear of disaster," she turned her head, "So if you could just-" she fell silent.

"Hello Rita." Spike said with a malicious grin.

"Oh shi-"

The sound of a collision cut Rita short. Several of the rat forms were sent flying through the air as the Dodger came to a violent halt.

Then, all hell broke loose.

* * *

End of Part Six

* * *

Sorry that took so long to get out. I can honestly say that it's been time constraints that have stopped me progressing with this story, rather than writer's block. It's all down in my mind, so it's just a case of transferring it to the computer.

If any of you could build a mind-machine interface, I'd be very much obliged!

The next chapter is underway. I should have it finished within the next week or two, so it'll be along in short order.

Watch this space! And thanks for reading.


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